Cynetic Wolf
A BIG TABLE

BANG. BANG. BANG. “Kid, are you there? Raek? Get up!”

I sat up from the mat on my floor as Lars shouted, “Open up! What were you thinking?”

I staggered to the hammering door. “What?”

“The video... Did you do that last night? The Council’s freaking out.” His eyes narrowed, an angry expression creasing his face. “What were you thinking?”

“I did what needed to be done.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Let’s go, kid. They’re waiting downstairs. I brought coffee.” He handed me a mug.

Three minutes later, we were outside the War Room. Lars grabbed my shoulder. “I can’t protect you in there, what you did... You crossed the line.”

I nodded, not saying anything, and pushed open the door.

The War Room froze as we entered.

“Raek,” Paer said at once. “Do you know what your video has done?”

“Probably what I intended. Stopped the fighting and made people question what they’re fighting for?”

“We had the GDR right where we wanted them!” Ganla snapped. “You’ve seen the numbers, we were growing stronger every day.”

“We weren’t growing stronger, we were getting weaker,” I said. “Proportionally stronger, sure, but millions were dying for no reason!”

Ganla’s fiery eyes flashed. “If we want to defeat the enemy, we have to crush them. We can’t afford to show weak—”

“That’s your problem!” I cut in. “There is no enemy. We are all people here.”

“Raek,” Mico replied, “you know what Ganla means. For animotes to gain power and take our rightful seat at the head of the table—”

Damn it. “You don’t get it, do you? That mentality is what created this mess in the first place. It won’t fix it! This isn’t about propping up animotes, it’s about equality. It’s about lasting peace.” Hadn’t they heard of Mandela? What would Fitz say?

Ganla’s face contorted. “How can you speak of peace and equality after all that’s happened?”

“Revenge and retribution always leads to more bloodshed.” I shook my head. “Look at World War II, we all had that in history class!”

“Raek,” Paer said. “This isn’t about revenge, not yet. It’s about military strategy. The fact is, you compromised the advantage we had. A truce gives the other side time to regroup, and maybe unify. If that happens, we’re back where we started.”

Oh… “I didn’t think about that. But we need to end the bloodshed for all our sakes.”

“You’re just a boy!” Ganla said. “What do you know about—”

Just a boy? I slammed my fist on the table. “How dare you? Who planned to target brain-fields and figured out the locations? Who captured Thorn and tricked Calter? Who nearly died yesterday? Just a boy...” I scoffed. “How dare you?”

“Raek’s right,” Lars said. “He has at least as much right as any to a seat at this table. We owe him. Let’s not forget who made the videos and is our rallying cry,” he added.

Thank you, Lars. I knew I could count on you.

“What do you propose?” Paer eye’s bore into me, silencing Ganla with an icy stare.

“Negotiations,” I replied. “We send delegates from all subspecies to hash out a new governance system, propose non-binding decrees and open ’em to public vote. If two-thirds approve, it becomes law.”

“And if we don’t like the results?” Paer countered.

“We accept the consequences, like everyone else. We have to negotiate in good faith if we want others to.” Talk turned to what an ideal system would look like, and we agreed, a direct democracy with a higher governing body.

Lars was skeptical. “You think emulates and cynetics would agree; going from elite to average overnight?”

We knew the other side’s weaknesses, didn’t we? “Think about it,” I said. “If you’d beaten down animotes your entire life, what would you fear most?” I paused. “Trading places... They’ll be happy we aren’t out for blood. And we’ll bring that up.” No one said we have to play totally fair. “As long as they feel they’re getting an honest deal.”

In the end, a vote: five-to-two in favor. It felt like a win, but at the same time, meant we’d be having more meetings. Lovely...

It took two days for other groups to agree to a ceasefire. The delay cost another million lives, and the cynetics, of course, were last to cave, recognizing their position of power. Even they couldn’t fight the public outcry forever.

Once the fighting fizzled out, we’d lost 144 million in four days. And that wasn’t including the Neuroweb junkies... Humanity was on the brink, again.

It was decided Paer, Obowe, and I would go as the animote representatives. The agreements were non-binding, and people would have to ratify them, but I felt an enormous responsibility. What if I screwed up?

Before I knew it, the talks were upon us. I couldn’t sleep. Even spending the night with Zedda didn’t help. Everything was riding on this.

I awoke at 6:30, ruined, like I’d been beaten for days with a club. Struggling to my feet, muscles sore and brain foggy, I thought through these past months—the suffering and hardships at the hands of the GDR, Elly, my family. Everything…

And Zedda… Lying there, she was the picture of peaceful serenity. Why’d she make me feel like this? And even after hours and hours sharing everything with one another, she was a mystery.

But I had a job to do. People were relying on me. I needed coffee.

Obowe was in the mess when I got there, nursing a steaming cup of caffeinated goodness. “Ready, Raek?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Have you seen—” The door opened and the wiry woman stepped in. “Speak of the devil.”

“Good, you two are up,” Paer commented. “Ready?”

“Waiting on you, Agtha,” Obowe said in what could have been a joke, but his face was more of a blank stare. You never could tell with him.

“Let’s get lids and go,” Paer said after her first sip. “We’re better early than late.”

We chit-chatted on the way to the entrance and I was reminded of that day Zedda first brought Fitz and I here. So much had happened. Was it about to come to a close?

A short VTOL ride and we were outside the great library. The building was majestic, an air of power and purpose that grabbed me. The white marble arches and massive stone staircase had the historic feel of ancient Rome, ascending the Library of Alexandria. This was the center of the known world, the bastion of science and reason, and of humanity’s progress. There weren’t many left... Would it be enough?

Powder white snow coated the treetops and sidewalks, giving an ethereal feel to the whole experience. We were the only ones here, no screaming protesters or advocacy groups. We’d agreed to a three block perimeter to protect the proceedings. At least for now, it was working.

At the top of the steps, I gazed out at the city. Not two weeks ago, bloodshed engulfed these streets. Hundreds of thousands dead, buildings incinerated, bodies littering the frozen earth. Today, all was calm and quiet.

The contrast was eerie.

The door opened as we approached, and we stepped through oak-paneled double doors. Holy cow: level upon level of books, manuscripts, digital files, all manner of statues, photography, and art. It was as if Michelangelo met da Vinci, Jobs, and Einstein in the epitome of man’s creativity and progress.

Obowe elbowed me. Shoot, we’d arrived. At the embossed wooden table in the center of the main level sat a small group that appeared to be enhancers.

Two tall men sat rigid in high-backed chairs, observing us as we approached. One had short blond hair, the beginnings of a beard, and blue eyes that invited confidence. His sturdy neighbor sported a bomber jacket, buzzcut, and enough gritty facial hair to display dominance as a male. He whispered to the woman to his right, a drop dead brunette with deep brown eyes, high cheekbones, and an air of intelligence. She was stunning, irresistible actually, holding me transfixed. I thought of Zedda and felt ashamed.

Paer broke the ice. “Looks like we’re not the first ones here.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” The blond man pushed back his chair and stood, colleagues following suit.

The enhancers had wanted to get the lay of the land as well. We both wanted to ensure we weren’t walking into an ambush.

Pleasantries completed, Obowe circled the table arranging micro-cams to prevent any funny business. As he sat, the Library doors opened and sunlight streamed in. The cynetics and emulates had arrived together. Interesting.

The two parties marched wordlessly toward us. Calter led the way for the cynetics, staring me down. He knew he’d been played and hadn’t seen it coming. It’d be interesting to see how things played out. I doubted his fellow delegates knew. He wasn’t the type to disclose anything. Maybe we could use that...

The emulates followed at a distance with an unmistakable tension. The Minister of Commerce, Jean Gileu, and I locked eyes, death stares burning into me. Where was Lin Zu?

After strained introductions, they too set up recording gear.

No one said anything.

I stood. “I’m glad you all came.” The faces around the table were impossible to gauge. “We have to put a stop to the violence. We’ve all lost friends and family, and if the fighting continues... This isn’t about winning or losing or avenging past crimes. This is about moving past those to an equal world of prosperity for all.”

Obowe nodded, encouraged, and two of the others did likewise. The rest seemed unconvinced, angry, or fearful. This wouldn’t be easy.

“I don’t have an agenda,” I continued. “These are preliminary talks. Everything needs to be ratified by the people. I’ve said enough. I want to let anyone with something to say to take the stage.” I sat.

Jean Gileu burst to his feet, glaring at me. “In these discussions, let’s not forget the actions and ramifications of the actions your people have committed. You’ve killed me, murdered my husband, and our two children. Our brain-fields were backed up, you ruined that, stole that from emulates everywhere. So let’s not sit here and pretend you animotes are so high and mighty,” he added. “You’ve murdered millions and act as if you’re a savior.”

I recoiled.

“And,” the longhaired oddball to Jean’s right added, “millions have died at your hands and millions more will before this is over. You caused all of it! You are the greatest mass murderer mankind has ever known!” He snarled.

Mass murderer, me? How could he—

“If we’re honest,” the beautiful enhancer piped up. I couldn’t remember her name—Iyanna, I think—I’d been distracted. “The GDR treated our animote cousins like filth for decades. We’re guilty as well. We let it happen. It was just a matter of time.”

“We’re not here to assign blame!” I cut in. “It doesn’t matter who is at fault. We all are. But, things are broken and need fixing.”

We went back and forth for hours, arguing minute details, politics, and, of course, blaming everyone but ourselves. Politicians...

At noon we broke for lunch, famished. It’d been a slog of a morning. Each group headed to find food and discuss the morning’s developments.

Obowe and Paer were frustrated with the lack of progress. The emulates weren’t happy with any way forward. Cynetics saw power as their probable future. Neither seemed willing to compromise. The chasm between felt insurmountable, and growing.

After a quick lunch, it was time to head back. As before, trust but verify. We all double checked recording equipment before starting. The afternoon session passed much the same as the morning, and by 19:00, I was sick of the whole thing. A day of arguments, and nothing to show for it.

Back at headquarters, we had more meetings in the War Room. Ugh.

I found Zedda afterwards, needing to be close to her tonight, to share my innermost thoughts and fears. Later, we made love. I told her about being called a mass murderer, about the blame and hate I felt, even my fears for us.

What if we failed, if I failed? Could I live in a world where my children were second class citizens at best?

A tear touched her eye as a happy smile enveloped her.

“What’s wrong?” My heart skipped a beat. Was it something I said?

“Oh, it’s nothing, Raek.” She wiped a tear, staring at me in the dim light. “I was going to wait until this was all over.” She smiled, blinking away uncharacteristic tears. “Raek, I’m pregnant!” she blurted out. “I’m pregnant.” She laughed, smiling and crying all at once.

“I’m pregnant.”

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